


But That's Just How I Feel

by ettedab



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AND IT’S SO UNBEARABLY OBVIOUS BUT THEY WON’T ADMIT THEIR FEELINGS TO EACH OTHER, AND KEEP ON COMMUNICATING BADLY AND YOU JUST HAD ENOUGH OF IT ALREADY, Emotional Manipulation, Harry Needs a Hug, Heavy Angst, Horny Tom, M/M, Masturbation, Mind Games, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Rejection, Slutty Harry, Tom has too many issues, Tom is a jerk, Tom is fucking in denial, Too much drama i’m telling you, WHEN CHARACTERS ARE HELPLESSLY IN LOVE WITH EACH OTHER, poor draco lol, someone pls tell tom to get it together
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:34:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23698555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ettedab/pseuds/ettedab
Summary: That love, Harry thinks with a hint of disgust and self-hatred, is threatening to swallow him whole and eat him alive if he would let it.“Oh, Harry.” Tom grabs a fistful of Draco’s hair and pulls the blond closer to his body. He gives Harry a pitiful smile. “Don’t make me feel as if I have to love you back.”
Relationships: A surprise pairing wait for it, Draco Malfoy/Tom Riddle, Harry Potter/Tom Riddle | Voldemort
Comments: 27
Kudos: 90





	1. So Am I Wrong?

_It’s time._

Harry takes several deep breaths, doing his utmost best to calm his nerves. Losing his cool around a certain Head Boy won’t do. He double-checks the wrapped package within his grasp, knowing that it’s in perfect condition the last time he’d seen it, which was approximately just a minute ago. 

_This is just Tom_ , he reassures himself with a soft smile on his face as he thinks about his best friend for six years. _Everything will be alright._ He opens the door to the boy’s dormitory and barges in. 

He hears it first—the sound of someone whimpering, nearly drowned out by a low groan. His nose catches a whiff of musk and sex lingering heavily in the air. There’s a warning voice on his head that screams at him to go away and not look anymore, but he does. 

To say that the sight that greets him is shocking beyond belief puts it mildly--there’s Tom, his best friend, the man he’s in love with, leaning against a wall and making out with Draco _sodding_ Malfoy. 

Standing still on the doorway, he could only watch them with morbid fascination. His chest aches, but there’s an alarming sense of numbness that quickly fills him up, protecting him as if it was some twisted sort of defence mechanism.

Harry couldn’t deny the truth. _They look good together_. He’d never seen Tom like this before—disheveled waves of black hair falling across his forehead, splotches of red on his cheeks, clothes wrinkled as Malfoy greedily runs his hands through every surface of it. Malfoy’s skin glistens even under the faint light, reddening beautifully as Tom grips him by the hips and brings their groins together. 

He knows he should go. _There’s no place for you here._ _You’re not wanted._ But for some reason he couldn’t look away. 

It felt as if he was _meant_ to see this.

His mind goes back to yesterday. He’d cornered Tom on his way out of Potions class, feeling his heartbeat against his ribcage as he tells Tom in a defiant tone, _meet me at the dormitory tomorrow. 6 o’clock sharp. I have something to tell you._ His body had been shaking then, feeling the enormity of what he’s planning to do. 

And then Tom gives him that certain smile of his that just melts Harry on the spot. _“It’s a date then.”_

They’d been going at it for a while--Tom shooting him furtive glances when he thought he wasn’t looking, Tom holding his gaze whenever their eyes meet and looking at him longer than is necessary, Tom _fucking_ him with his eyes--it was a new territory that they didn’t dare cross throughout their friendship, and it opened Harry’s eyes to possibilities he hasn’t given much thought before.  
  
Of course he wasn’t blind—Tom is a very attractive man. But what sets him apart is his ambition. When Tom wanted something, he’d do anything and everything to get it. People would often be terrified of that amount of devotion and obsession. But Harry understands him, _admires_ him for it. He really doesn’t care what Tom’s willing to do and the lengths he had to go through to achieve his dreams. 

Harry doesn’t know what _that_ tells about him.  
  
And Tom was his best friend. Of course it was natural to support him. Natural to want Tom succeed, to want Tom by his side, always. Until his innocent admiration morphed into an embarrassing infatuation. Tom had been Harry’s first wank fantasy. It was Tom’s name he’d shout every time he’d spurt his cum on his hand. But he pushed it down, not wanting to make things weird between them. He’d seen Tom reject anyone who expresses their interest on him, and flinches visibly when it comes to physical affection—it’s a miracle that he seems to tolerate Harry’s. And Harry always touched him, whenever he can. On his hair, on his shoulder, on his hand. Even on his thigh, sometimes. It was more of an absentminded habit, one that Tom hadn’t commented on. So Harry hadn’t stopped. 

No one else would be more perfect for Tom than _him._

And then he sees Tom glance up towards him, eyes half-lidded with lust as Malfoy goes down on his knees in front of him. He doesn’t break his gaze away, his eyes daring Harry to say anything. 

It all crashes down at this very moment.

“Draco, it seems like we have a guest here.” Harry watches with wide eyes as Draco swivels his head around to face him, a smirk firmly in place while still on his knees. How the blond boy could exude a haughty aura despite his position, Harry doesn’t have a clue. 

He couldn’t help but notice as a pale hand reaches out to the front of Tom’s trousers, palm flat as Malfoy feels the half-hard cock on his hand, all the while looking at him. Harry feels like throwing up as Malfoy’s face grows more smug. “Didn’t peg you as a voyeurist, Potter.” 

_Fuck._

Tom is so many things--intelligent, proud, charming, manipulative.

But he was never this cruel. Not to Harry, anyway. 

Judging at the way Tom’s eyes glint in the darkness as Malfoy continues to fondle him, Harry knows that Tom _knows_. And he’d played Harry like a fool. Despite knowing what Harry felt for him, despite their friendship, he chose to do this instead. 

Harry can’t feel anything as he finally says those three words. “I love you.” This is what he’d come for, anyways. Contrary to what he feels right now, the world hasn’t ended. If anything, he still feels the same way despite Tom’s betrayal. That knowledge is like poison trickling in his veins.

That _love_ , Harry thinks with a hint of disgust and self-hatred, is threatening to swallow him whole and eat him alive if he would let it. 

“Oh, Harry.” Tom grabs a fistful of Draco’s hair and pulls the blond closer to his body. He gives Harry a pitiful smile. “Don’t make me feel as if I have to love you back.”

Harry just stands there as it hits him full-force. _I was wrong._ He doesn’t even glance as the package on his hand suddenly bursts into flames, feeling his emotions spiral out of control every second that ticks by. _About us. About everything._

Malfoy’s voice cuts through the haze on his mind. “I wouldn’t mind if you join us, though.” When Harry looks up, he sees silver eyes flashing back at him with emotion. “You’ve always been easy on the eyes.”

Tom interjects with a taunt. “Be careful what you wish for, _darling_. Apparently, Harry’s a whore for me.”   
  
Harry’s never been more ashamed of in his whole life. He hates how his voice wavers as he speaks. “You disgust me. _Both_ of you.”

He doesn’t know where he gets the strength to take a step back. Then another. He almost stumbles on his feet as he turns around and hurries out of the room without a backward glance.

Not that Tom had called him back, or sought him out after.

\----

_So am I wrong_

_For thinkin' that we could be something for real?_

_Now am I wrong_

_For tryin' to reach the things that I can't see?_

_But that's just how I feel (Ooh, ooh)_

_That's just how I feel (Ooh, ooh)_

_That's just how I feel_

_Trying to reach the things that I can't see (Ooh, ooh, see, see)_


	2. I Just Can’t Wait For Love (To Destroy Us)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone!!! I hope it hasn’t been a long wait. This chapter, I would like to welcome you to a glimpse of Tom’s thoughts 🤪 But it’s just the tip of the iceberg y’all 😵 The fallout of their relationship would be on the next chapter, since this is sort of like an interlude with a flashback, so stay tuned 💖 
> 
> Warning: a horny Tom + a Harry that’s a slut for him. Masturbation & Voyeurism. If that disturbs you then you may want to skip this!
> 
> P.S. I forgot to mention LMAO the title for this chapter is from the song “Flawless” by The Neighbourhood 😗 I think it matches Tom’s personality tbh 😋

Tom woke up at the sound of a poorly-disguised moan.

He blearily casted a _Tempus_ , the spell informing him that it was way past bedtime already. Annoyed at being disturbed in his sleep by such a trivial manner (Merlin , he’s fully aware that 5th year is the height of any man’s sexual drive, but can they learn how to wank in peace?), he pushed away the curtains draped over his bed and set off towards the sound.

He looked around, noting the unoccupied bed near the window. As usual, Zabini must have been off somewhere else with his latest paramour—at least the Italian Slytherin had the decency to do so. On the opposite side by the wall, he saw Goyle sprawled carelessly on his own bed, snoring loudly and quite oblivious to Tom’s current dilemma.

When he turned towards the remaining bed and the most likely culprit, his heart skidded to a stop as the familiar sight greeted him.

_Oh._

Tom wished he could turn back time just so he could hex himself for not realizing it sooner. If there’s one thing Harry sucked at, it’s his deplorable skill at casting the _Muffliato_ charm and being painfully unaware by this incapability. Not that it’s unexpected—Harry had the tendency to be as observant as a brick wall, after all. 

Tom’s filled with dread as he stopped by the foot of Harry’s bed, the jade green velvet curtains pulled shut. 

He knew that this was an invasion of someone else’s privacy, and one that Tom’s always been adamant at. The smart thing to do was to walk away and pretend that it never happened.

But then he heard Harry let out a low groan, pushing Tom’s common sense out of the window. If there’s one thing _Tom_ sucked at, it’s  this—being tempted over and over again by everything that Harry did. Even Harry’s most innocent gestures sometimes looked downright dirty to Tom’s eyes, and it’s such a shame, really. 

There wasn’t a shred of self-hatred plaguing him now though, not when it’s drowned out by lust that almost overwhelmed his whole being. Tom moved several steps closer as if in a trance, his eyes flitting over the tiny gap between Harry’s curtains and affording him a tease of pale skin. But Tom didn’t have to strain his neck just to peek in there. He performed a wandless spell, one that made the curtains slid away into nothingness and revealing the person behind it. 

He was that the glad that the spell only worked one-way. He felt himself instantly harden at the sight of Harry on all fours, his chest pressed flat on the bed and his delectable arse high up in the air as he fucked himself with his fingers, the wet slapping sound of it so obscene that it made Tom’s cock throb with ache. “ _More_ ,” Harry pleaded desperately with his eyes closed, and Tom almost crossed the remaining distance to give Harry the pounding he’s wishing for at the moment. He’ll make sure that by the end of it, he’d ruined everyone else for Harry, that he would feel the weight of Tom’s cock inside him for  weeks  that he’d be delirious enough to come begging for Tom and take him again.

But this would have to do. _You’re so weak_ _,_ he berated himself. And yet he found his hand already wrapped around his cock, pumping it slowly as he continued to watch. This time Harry slipped in another finger, and even from where he was standing at, Tom could see how tight Harry was, his girth stretched around his three fingers. There’s a grimace on Harry’s face as he groaned out. “ _It hurts, god-“_

Tom’s hand sped up at that. He didn’t know why it was such a turn on for him to see and hear Harry in pain. If Tom had his way, Harry would be crying by now, and Tom would be unmoved by his tears and helpless pleas to slow down. He’ll force Harry to take all of his length in one go, because he knows Harry can take it,  _will_ take it whether he likes it or not because Tom tells him to do so and he has no other choice—

And then he heard his own name coming out of Harry’s mouth in a breathless moan. “ _Tom_ ...” Harry still had his eyes scrunched shut tight, so Tom knew he hadn’t blown his cover yet. But it shocked him enough to stop him in his tracks.  “ _Please, Tom, I’m so wet and ready for you already.”_

This was the one thing he hadn’t seen coming. It was one thing for Harry to be his best friend, the one he trusted the most, and another for Harry to desire him like  _this_ . When had it even started? It was exhilarating, and it was so, so worse than he’d expected it to be that he should stop this nonsense immediately before it could go further—

“ _Please Tom, I’ll be so good for you_ _._ ” And then Harry swiftly pushed all three fingers inside and gasped at the burn of it. “ _Ah—_ “

Tom’s resolve crumbled just like that. His hand gripped around his cock tight before jerking himself off once again, matching Harry’s pace. He couldn’t help the small sound escaping out of him as Harry’s body thrashed around and convulsed, his breath suddenly coming out ragged and shallow. “ _Right there, fuck—_ “ Tom saw his fingers sped up as he plunged continuously on his prostate.  “ _Don’t stop, p-please—_ “

Tom has never brought himself off before like his life depended on it. He’s reduced to nothing but a ball of white-hot desire, and he hates it, but doesn’t stop, he really can’t—

With a sudden motion Harry removed his fingers with a loud smack, his hole quivering and gaping wide as the lubrication he’d used trickled out of it. His body was shaking as he scooted over and lied down on his back, too caught up in his own pleasure to be aware that someone else was watching him. Tom wondered what Harry would possibly do if he caught him in the act.

And he looked so vulnerable, so pliant and willing, that it only made Tom want to fuck him more. Would he even realize that it’s Tom if he’s so out of it already, if he’s gagging for a shag and anyone’s cock would do? His throat closed up at the mere thought of  _ anyone _ —after all, it was _his_ name that Harry’s moaning and not anyone else’s.

It was nothing to be proud of, but Tom felt like it. 

He watched as Harry brought his knees up and spread his legs wider, and without preamble hethrusted three fingers inside his puckered hole while his other hand jerked off his neglected cock, the head slipping in and out of view from his fist almost purple and weeping with precum. His moans were getting louder now.  “ _I-I’m close...ah ah_ —”

And suddenly Tom is filled with an unadulterated want to hear Harry’s gentle voice get rough after he forces his cock down his throat, wants Harry on top of him, hips moving sensually as he chases his own pleasure and green eyes on him as he bounces up and down desperately. Or spread wantonly beneath Tom, his back curved in a beautiful arch as he begs for Tom to give in, to  _ take _ him whole. Or bent over any other surface, cheeks flushed red and mouth wide open in a silent scream as Tom sends him over the edge, again and  again.

And knowing that anyone can just walk in and see him standing there and jerking himself off because of Harry,  _Harry_ —

He suppressed a groan as he spurted all over his hand. He wants to come over and fill Harry to the brim with his cum, want to lap up Harry’s battered hole after that and taste himself there, wants to slip in his fingers inside and feel his own juices coating Harry’s walls. He wants, and wants, and  _ wants _ —

Harry didn’t even try to hide his shout as he came shortly after him.

Tom cleaned himself with a muttered spell, feeling numb all over as the weight of what he’d done threatened to suffocate him.

He walked back silently to his bed, his thoughts a frenzied whirl. He would  _ obliviate _ himself if he had to. He shouldn’t be so affected by this, shouldn’t act as if this  changes everything.

But it did. Tom has never desired for anyone else before. It was more frightening than the notion of dying, and Tom hated the mere thought of death more than anything. It had been his one fear that drove him to do most of the things he did, and _would do_ in the future—just to escape death and for it to never touch him. What does it mean, then, that Harry’s eyes, his laugh, his scent, his everything, is like a detriment to Tom’s whole being? 

And so it goes without saying that he chose to avoid Harry for the rest of the fifth year, not minding that it put a strain on their friendship. It was hard, what with being in the same house and sleeping quarters, but there was nothing Tom couldn’t do once he’s determined. 

It was the hardest thing he had done.

There had been a point where Harry refused to sit on the Slytherin table at meal times. He’d immersed himself into quidditch then that he’d always came late at night after practices that he really didn’t need, not that Tom was waiting for him every single time. But it widened Harry’s circle of friends, from the rowdy bunch of Gryffindors led by the Weasleys and even a handful of Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs. He was never alone.

But Tom caught Harry still giving him furtive glances every now and then. Tom would look away pointedly every time their eyes met.

They didn’t say goodbye at the end of fifth year. Harry had stopped looking at him by then. 

When the start of sixth year came, it only took one look at Harry trying valiantly to hide his bruises and split lip with a glamour for Tom to approach him at the Welcoming Feast and sit by his side, vibrating with righteous fury to end those despicable muggle relatives of his. Harry had given him a genuine smile as if Tom hadn’t been a jerk to him last year and offered half of his treacle tart to Tom.

It was the first time he’d tasted something so sweet and vile, but Harry’s laugh had been worth it. Two things had occured to him then.

_This would be my downfall._

And...

_I don’t deserve him._

——

When Harry corners him right after Potions, Tom acts surprised despite anticipating for  _this_ to happen already.

He deigns on an attentive face as Harry speaks to him, Tom’s  eyes automatically caught at that pretty little mouth spewing nonsense stuff.

He thinks that Harry might’ve noticed, buthe doesn’t do anything that might express his discomfort at the way Tom blatantly stares at him—instead, Harry trails a tongue along his plump bottom lip, as if enticing Tom further to  _sin_ .

And Tom’s no saint.

But then the coy glint in Harry’s eyes disappears at what he tells him next. “Meet me at the dormitory tomorrow. 6 o’clock sharp. I have something to tell you.“

Tom wants to drop his act right then and there and laugh at that stupid, earnest expression plastered on Harry’s face. He wants to tell him that he already  _knows_ , and so there’s no need for whatever dumb thing Harry’s planning.

And yet something stops him from doing so. It’s his deepest, darkest desire, even far graver than seeking immortality—he wants to see Harry  _break_ , just for him. He couldn’t explain the desperate urge to see that pretty face scrunched up in pain and betrayal. It’s always a constant presence, hanging around Tom’s shadows. He’s almost about to beg the heavens for Harry to feel it  _all_ —

He doesn’t want to take too long to answer. “It’s a date, then.” Tom is aware of how he sounds like, how his voice had carried with it a certain promise of what’s to come.

But not the kind that Harry is wishing for. 

Harry flashes him an answering smile, and up close Tom could see how those glorious green eyes are lit by hope and fierce determination.

He’d never been able to tell Harry how much he despises those green, green eyes.

It would be so easy, he thinks with glee. Harry is just too trusting, too giving, and Tom would just take it all greedily until there’s nothing left—

As Tom watches Harry wave him goodbye and leave, there ’s a sudden sharp jab at his chest, as if something wants to break out of his ribcage and set loose. Tom isn’t an idiot. He’s aware of what he feels all this time; he’s known for a long time. He cares, and wants, and needs, all for one particular person, and Tom wants so desperately to tear those ugly parts out of him that’s so dependent for someone else.

If only it was as easy as breaking your soul in pieces.

And so Tom hates him with a burning passion, and will continue to do so. Because there’s no way he’ll consider anything else but this.

_Love_ , Tom discovers early on in his life, isn’t that much different from hate.

And he’ll be certain that Harry would learn that fact, too. He’ll grind it to his skull if he has to.

——

_Add it all up, I can find it_

_The problem with love is I'm blinded by_

_It rattles my lungs, but my mind is_

_Tangled between your little flaws_

_Your flaws, your flaws, your flaws_

_You're a doll, you are flawless_

_But I just can't wait for love to destroy us_

_I just can't wait for love_

_You're only flaw, you are flawless_

_But I just can't wait for love to destroy us_

_I just can't wait for love._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you’re confused, the first chapter (or the present) is during their sixth year, while the first part of this 2nd chapter is back on their 5th year (so it’s a flashback). I hope it’s all cleared up ❤️
> 
> COMMENTS PLEASE I WOULD LIKE TO HEAR FROM YOU I AM A COMMENT WHORE HAHAHA SO GIVE ME YOUR ALL!!!!


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